Prologue

Sorcery in the Neon storm

Fraid City a city of innovation and home of the elite that radiated in the light like a beacon. But even the brightest lights cast big shadows. The Neon Hum of Fraid City pulsated like a dying heartbeat, flickering against the rain-slick streets, casting fractured reflections through endless puddles. The air was thick with gasoline fumes and damp concrete, carrying the distant hum of a subway grinding beneath the streets.

A girl ran.

Her breaths came shallow and uneven, her pulse hammering against her ribs like a frantic warning. Every footstep—hers and theirs—slapped against wet pavement, echoing through the alleys in a dizzying rhythm of pursuit.

The city swallowed her in its labyrinth of concrete walls and steel beams, each twist and turn leading her deeper into the place where good things didn’t happen.

They were behind her.

Three of them.

Big Barry, built like a concrete slab, moving with the kind of heavy-footed arrogance that suggested he didn’t bother dodging obstacles—he crushed them instead.
 Snakebite Lou, thin as a gutter rat, with a grin that could cut glass and breath that smelled like cheap whiskey and worse decisions.
 Brimstone Pete, somewhere between cunning and completely detached, his voice low and amused like the whole chase was just for fun.

“Where ya going, sweetheart?” Lou’s voice was mocking, slurred with too much amusement. He picked up speed, his shadow elongating beneath the flickering streetlights.

The girl clutched her bag tighter, her knuckles turning white, her breath fogging in the cold night air.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.
 She wasn’t supposed to be running for her life.

She should have been home, in her tiny one-bedroom apartment, where the sound of the city was a muffled hum through cheap drywall, where the fridge light glowed weakly behind mismatched takeout containers, where she could forget—just for a few hours—that the world outside had teeth.

But she wasn’t home.

She was here.
 And they were chasing her.

The graffiti-covered walls blurred past as she turned sharp left, her sneakers skidding against the slick pavement, barely catching traction. She could hear their laughter behind her, the kind that didn’t belong in warmth, but in dark alleys where no one was watching.

She couldn’t stop.

Couldn’t think.

There was only forward.

Her pulse screamed through her veins, her mind racing through every possible escape route, every alleyway, every shadowed turn—but each step led her closer to nowhere, the city trapping her like a puzzle with no right answer.

The walls loomed higher, closing in.

She hit a dead end.

Her stomach plummeted as she turned, backing up against the cold brick, her sneakers splashing into a shallow puddle.

The three figures emerged from the alley, casual, entertained, like they hadn’t been running at all, like they knew she had nowhere to go.

Brimstone Pete wiped the rain off his jacket sleeve.

Snakebite Lou stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles. “No need to be shy.”

Big Barry just grunted, standing like a boulder between her and the outside world.

She clutched her bag tighter, her fingers digging into the worn fabric, eyeing them like wild raccoons that had somehow learned how to mug people.

She knew she hit a dead end.

Her stomach plummeted as she turned, backing up against the cold brick, her sneakers splashing into a shallow puddle.

The three figures emerged from the alley—casual, entertained, like they hadn’t been running at all, like they knew she had nowhere to go.

Brimstone Pete wiped the rain off his jacket sleeve, his brimstone-colored hair shifting in the wind.

Snakebite Lou stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles. "No need to be shy."

Big Barry—the silent, towering presence—stood back, his stance calm, like he was here just to watch how this played out.

The girl inhaled sharply, forcing her pulse to slow despite the panic clawing at her ribs.

Stay calm.
 Don’t show fear.

"Look," she said carefully, adjusting her grip on her bag. "I don’t know what you guys think this is, but I’m not in the mood for whatever dumb crime documentary you’re trying to recreate."

Brimstone Pete snickered. "Oh, she’s got jokes."

Snakebite Lou grinned, running a hand over his bald head, the tattooed snake scales glistening with rain beneath the streetlights.

"It ain't about the mood, sweetheart," Lou said, his voice thick with amusement. "It’s about how fast you can run. And you?" He nodded toward her soaked sneakers. "You don’t seem fast enough."

She clenched her jaw, shifting her stance.

"Yeah? Well, I may not be fast," she shot back, lifting her school bag, tightening her grip, "but I’ve got a mean swing."

Before they could react—she moved.

A sharp arc of movement, the strap twisting in her fingers as she swung the bag full force toward Lou’s sneering face.

The heavy impact slammed against his jaw, sending him stumbling back, nearly losing his footing.

Brimstone Pete laughed, clapping once. "Oh, I like her!"

Snakebite Lou hissed, straightening up, rubbing his jaw with annoyance.

"Alright, sweetheart," Lou muttered, stepping forward, his grin widening as he smacked the bag right out of her hands, sending it skidding into the puddles.

She cursed inwardly, but refused to flinch.

Lou's tongue flicked out briefly, playful, before he cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders like he was getting into the rhythm of a fight.

"And here I was, thinking you were just gonna cry," Lou mused, tapping his temple. "Cute. But if you think a little slap is gonna slow me down, you got another thing coming."

She shoved a hand into her jacket pocket, fingers grasping cold glass—her phone.

Maybe she could—

Lou moved fast.

Before she could unlock the screen, his hand shot out, slapping the device clean from her grasp. The phone hit the concrete hard, skidding through the rain, its screen flashing once before the brightness faded.

"Oops," Lou mocked, grinning wide.

She swallowed hard, her heart hammering.

Brimstone Pete leaned against the wall, hair rustling in the wind, exhaling lazily. "Man, she really thought she could pull the 911 card? Adorable."

Big Barry, still silent, shifted slightly—just watching, as if waiting for the moment to step in.

Snakebite Lou chuckled, rolling his wrist.

 THEN!

A dark maroon cape fluttered sharply in the wind, cutting through the neon city haze. Sorrow descended, boots landing so softly it was as if gravity itself barely acknowledged him.

His wizard-like hat sat proudly atop his head, casting a faint shadow over his bluish-grey textured skin his face like a mask, the only real hint that there was something distinctly inhuman about him.

His yellow eyes were dim, but the air around him hummed with danger, ready to flare into something terrifying at a moment’s notice.

The hooligans stared.

Snakebite Lou tilted his head, his tattooed scalp shimmering under the streetlights.

Brimstone Pete scratched his jaw. "Alright. What the hell is this?"

Big Barry simply blinked, deadpan. "Bro, this is—what? Some kind of vampire hunter?"

Sorrow sighed. He adjusted his gloves, rolling his shoulders like this was just another annoying errand.

"Look," he said flatly, nodding toward the girl, who was still pressed against the wall, clutching her soaked bag. "You could just not do this. Maybe go home. Maybe reconsider your entire life philosophy."

Brimstone Pete snorted.

Snakebite Lou grinned, flexing in a way he probably thought was intimidating.

Big Barry cracked his knuckles.

"That's cute," Lou sneered, taking a slow step forward. "But you got it twisted, vampire dude—we don’t back down."

Sorrow exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Of course you don’t."

"You talk a lot for someone who's about to eat concrete," Pete chuckled.

"Mm." Sorrow raised a brow. "You ever think—just once—maybe you should pick a fight that doesn’t involve someone who literally descended from the sky?"

"Yeah," Big Barry muttered. "See, that's the kind of thing that makes me wanna punch you more."

Snakebite Lou moved first.

His hand shot forward, a concealed knife flashing under the streetlights.

Sorrow didn’t flinch.

His cape moved on its own, twisting in midair like a living shadow, snaking around Lou’s wrist, catching the blade in an effortless trap.

Before Lou could react—

The cape threw him.

A full-body judo toss, sending him skidding across the wet pavement like a ragdoll.

Brimstone Pete and Big Barry rushed in, fists raised.

Sorrow sighed. "Gentlemen, please."

A golden glow flickered around him—then, in the blink of an eye—

He was gone.

The hooligans' punches missed entirely, and instead—

They hit each other.

Pete cursed, stumbling back, rubbing his jaw. Big Barry barely flinched.

The girl watched in awe, mouth slightly parted, chest tight with confusion and panic.

Who—what was this thing saving her? And was it actually saving her—or was she just caught in the middle of something worse?

Snakebite Lou stood up, shaking off the throw, flexing his wrist.

"You got tricks," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "I don't like tricks."

Brimstone Pete wiped his mouth. "Guess it ain’t gonna be easy."

Big Barry loosened his stance, eyes locked on Sorrow.

"You still wanna talk us outta this, wizard guy?" Pete teased.

Sorrow sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"Oh, you already made up your minds," he muttered, raising his hands. "I just like to pretend there was a chance."

The three hooligans stepped forward, more determined than before.

Sorrow exhaled, yellow eyes flickering bright.

"Fine," he murmured. "Guess we’re doing it your way."

Sorrow exhaled deeply—the kind of sigh reserved for people who make bad life choices.

His yellow eyes flickered, glowing brighter as his hand lifted, fingers splaying open toward the air.

The spellbooks locked to his shoulder shuddered, their faces twisting, Pages flicking. Their glowing eyes snapped open, mouths parting with a faint whisper of incantations, as if they too were judging the sinners before them.

The pavement hummed.

A golden light surged outward, flickering around his wrist, running up his arm like liquid lightning, before bursting forth—

And then, he cast the Repent Spell.

The moment the yellow wave of magic struck the hooligans, absolute devastation unfolded.

Big Barry dropped his knife with a strangled yelp, his face contorting in emotional agony. “I—I can’t do this anymore, man—I gotta call my grandma! I haven’t spoken to her in three years! THREE YEARS!”

Brimstone Pete collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest like he’d been personally struck by divine intervention. "I never meant to disappoint my mother like this—I have dishonored my family! Oh, what have I done?"

Snakebite Lou staggered, gripping the front of his own shirt as sheer existential crisis overtook him. “I—I wasted my life! I’ve never even returned a library book on time! I—I'm a menace to society!”

The spellbooks laughed—as all the pages flickered back to the point the spellbooks closed.

Big Barry began pulling out crumpled bills, shoving them toward the girl with shaky hands. “Here, take it—please—just… just get yourself home safe—”

Brimstone Pete gasped. “I’ll never be rude again! I swear I’ll help old ladies cross the street—I’ll learn how to bake—I’LL JOIN A YOGA CLASS!”

Snakebite Lou had entered a full downward spiral. “I’m gonna start a charity, man—I swear—I’ll donate my paycheck—I’ll adopt a puppy—I’LL LEARN TO KNIT!”

Sorrow adjusted his hat, watching the scene unfold with mild amusement.

And then it escalated—fast.

Big Barry slapped his own forehead. “I need to stop being so toxic—I’m gonna delete ALL my burner accounts, man. I promise.”

Brimstone Pete shoved cash toward the girl, face soaked with tears. “Take it—please—this is my apology fund—I’ll start a ‘Help Random Strangers’ club!”

Snakebite Lou dropped to all fours, staring blankly ahead. “I'm gonna rescue abandoned kittens. I swear. I’ll knit little sweaters for them. I’ll open a shelter. I’ll—” He wheezed, dramatic. “I’ll become a GOOD PERSON!”

Then—Lou grabbed the girl’s wrist, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

"Ma’am. I know you can just beat me. Yeah beat me within an inch of my pathetic life—that makes us even, right? I need to atone.”

The girl jerked her hand away, wide-eyed, blinking rapidly. “…What the actual hell?”

Sorrow let out another sigh—this one deeper, more tired.

Then, bathed in golden light, he vanished—leaving behind a completely dumbfounded schoolgirl, three sobbing criminals, and a pile of guilt-driven cash that would definitely cover a taxi ride home—and possibly a self-care spa day.

The Agents of FATE were quick on the scene they were Fraid City peace keeping authority higher than your typical Australian Police Departments.

The FATE Agents exchanged glances, utterly baffled.

Three notorious criminals were begging to be locked away, sobbing through their confessions as if prison were a heavenly sanctuary.

Agent Eye stood at the centre of it all, motionless, assessing the chaos before him.

And then, Millana spoke.

"Look, I know what you're thinking," she snapped, still clutching her soaked school bag like a lifeline. "This sounds ridiculous. I GET IT. But what do you want me to do, huh? Pretend it didn’t happen?"

Agent EYE’s helmet didn’t move, but the weight of his stare was undeniable. "Miss Millana Kalako, I am simply asking you to consider how improbable this sounds."

Millana threw her hands up, exasperated. "Sir, I almost got mugged, and then some.. THING! descended from the sky, yelled at these idiots, hit them with a magical guilt laser, and now they’re trying to bribe me with soggy twenty-dollar bills!”

Big Barry sniffled loudly, holding out another stack of crumpled cash.

Millana pointed aggressively. "SEE? That’s NOT normal!"

Agent Eye sighed, exhaling slowly through his helmet’s internal filters.

Brimstone Pete hiccupped between sobs, his voice uneven. "Officer, please—just take me in—I’ll sweep the prison floors! I’ll knit socks for the elderly—I’ll never jaywalk again!"

Snakebite Lou was fully spiraling, shaking as he muttered to himself. “I need to do charity work—I need to—volunteer at a soup kitchen—I NEED TO DONATE BLOOD—”

Millana gestured wildly at them. "THIS. IS. INSANE."

Agent Eye remained calm. "So, this sorcerer—did he give his name?"

Millana scoffed. "DOES IT MATTER? He threw a guy using his cape. He literally evaporated into golden mist. I’m pretty sure physics has LEFT THE BUILDING."

Agent Eye inclined his head slightly, just enough to give the impression of consideration.

"And you have no idea where he went."

Millana groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "No. He vanished like an anime protagonist doing a dramatic exit scene, okay? What do you want from me?"

Agent Eye sighed again.

At least the vigilante hadn’t killed anyone.

This time.